Alphabet Soup
by CosmicParasite
Summary: Sam's spiraling downward, drowning in teenage angst and possibly depression while Dean's left to pick up the pieces. And John? Well, he's oblivious to the whole matter. Now rated M due to attempted suicide and mild cussing. CHAPTER 4 UP NOW!
1. Chapter 1

**Authors note: **I'm a bad person. Not only have I practically given up on my previous story, but now I'm writing another one? -face palm- Scratch that last part. L'amour Conqueirt Tous is on hiatus, I haven't given up on it, I've merely lost interest for the time being.

This is first person, from Sam's point of view (Some third person. Only used when I feel necessary.). And just so you all know, first person is extremely hard for me to write. So please excuse any misuse of tenses or grammatical errors!

**Warning: **Ugh. I don't even know at this point. Teenage angst, oh my! Maybe slash, depending on where I go with this. Maybe not. Oh! Oh! I happen to have with me an abundance of snarky Sam in the form of fic as well! And we all know what goes with snarky Sam? Snarky Dean! Yay, compilations due to teenage angst!

**Ages of our lovely boys: **Dean- 20 Sam- 16

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English had to be the most boring class ever… or at least Mr. Hancock's English class was. The guy lectured on for what seemed like hours. I sat with my arms crossed and leaned back, carefully analyzing his interpretation of Romeo and Juliet.

I rolled my eyes as he further explicated on the tragedy.

I honestly didn't find Romeo and Juliet to be all that interesting. Romeo is obviously a sex-craved, hormonal, whiny brat trying to get with a naïve, under-aged girl. And Juliet, well, she was just all too easily manipulated into believing that this boy has some sort of feelings for her. It doesn't seem all that romantic. To me, it seemed less about a story of love than a story about two people who died for a love nobody wanted them to have.

Only five minutes left of class. Thank god.

I kept my incredulous gaze on Mr. Hancock as he paced up and down the rows of desks, seemingly unaware of the abundance of sleeping students. I just know he's going to call on someone. I hope it isn't me.

And cue the teacher. "Mr. Winchester?"

Damn.

"Would you mind enlightening us on scene four, act three?"

Tell him to shove it. Tell him it's a piss poor excuse for a romance novel. Tell him he's a pathetic excuse for a high school English teacher, tell him! "Uhm. W-well," Crap! Why do I always have to stutter? I sound like an idiot! Oh, for the love of god, say something you twit! "That's when Juliet… commits suicide?" I cringe. Was that even the right scene? Erm, nope. Most definitely not.

"Brief, but that pretty much summarizes it. Very good Mr. Winchester."No. No it doesn't, I know it doesn't. My English teacher is a moron. That's not even the right act let alone the right scene… I reiterate, my English teacher is a moron.

A few students jolted awake as the bell rung. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't one of the first people out the door. Luckily English was my last class of the day. Listening Mr. Hancock drone on always makes me a bit drowsy. I sighed heavily as I closed my locker.

"Hey, Winchester!"

Oh god. What now? I let out another sigh as I turned around to face Matt. I think he just might be stalking me.

"Hey…" I answered avoiding eye contact. There's a reason for that. People are always asking me why I hesitate around kids my age. It's not that I'm all that scared, it's more of a defense mechanism. If I don't say the wrong thing, I won't get beat up. If I don't say anything, everyone will just leave me alone.

My inner monologue was cut short by Matt punching me in the gut. I fell forward, startled by the sudden blow. Before I could regain any sense of myself, Matt gripped my hair pulling my head down as he thrust his knee towards my face. I guess I should feel lucky that it was my jaw and not my nose that absorbed most of the impact. Or the fact that we were still on school grounds and class had only let out not ten minutes ago.

Somehow, I'm not feeling all that lucky.

I must have blacked out for a moment or two because I'm now on the ground and Matt is currently delivering some very painful blows to my midsection. I can feel my legs twitch slightly in an effort to curl in on myself. Yet another defense mechanism, I suppose. You'd think growing up in my family, I'd be able to defend myself from my classmates. Even if this one's twice my size.

I've somehow managed to curl up into an amazingly tight ball, considering the fact that I can barely feel my ribs. Don't be mistaken, the pain is quite evident, but that's about all I'm feeling at the moment. Dad's always telling me to suck it up. Wouldn't he be proud?

Matt's finally letting up. I can hear him laughing.

"That'll teach ya." Teach me what? To never breath your air? Ugh. Please tell me he didn't just spit on me. I'm tempted to tell him off, get bent douche bag, but I know better. Why add wood to the fire? I'm pretty sure that's not the saying, but it has the same outcome either way.

Slowly, I manage to drag myself from the ground, using the lockers as support. Leaning heavily against the lockers I take a couple of deep breathes. I could only imagine how labored they sound.

Days like these make me glad that I have an over-protective brother. Even if he is a jerk. Good, my legs are moving. So what if I can't feel them? Heh. I guess that makes me dead on my feet. I feel like I've been walking for hours. It's sad really. That was only what, Two steps?

I'm trying to keep my mind off the pain, but It's proving to be quite a difficult task. I'm still confused as to why Matt beat me up in the first place. Arrogant Jock. Way to overcompensate early on. Enjoy you thirties dickwad. Okay, so I'm bitter. Wouldn't you be? Ever since I moved here, life's been a living hell. I think I'm starting to develop an immense hatred towards Iowa. Fucking Iowa.

It's almost comical if you think about it. I used to be so… happy, for lack of a better word. I used to enjoy school, some might even say I was a bit of a socialite, minus the fashion diva part. I'm not saying I was ever popular, but people knew who I was. Sure, I'm a bit geeky when it comes right down to it, but not obsessively so.

I guess I'm not sure when I stopped caring. It's not like one day I just decided to stop talking to people.

Or did I?

No, I didn't. This had a longtime coming, I'm sure of it… Still, this makes me wonder what 'it' is. Depression maybe? But how could it be? I'm to angry to be depressed. I don't know what exactly I'm angry at, but the anger's there nonetheless.

Oh, thank god... I don't think I've ever been happier to see the Impala in my life. I'm not sure if that's sarcasm or not. Probably somewhere in between the two. I can see Dean through the Windshield. He looks flustered to say the least. I only got two, maybe three more steps in before Dean was out of the muscle car and racing towards me. I wonder if it was the limp or the hunch that tipped him off?

I have to say, getting the pulp beat out of you really takes a lot out of a guy. I felt relieved when Dean pushed my hair back and started with a tirade of questions I doubt even Matt could answer. I should probably be listening, but I'm having enough trouble just standing. On second thought…

Sam let out a pained grunt as he slumped forward. Luckily, Dean was there to catch the limp form of his little brother.

"Oh Sammy." Dean whispered before wrapping one of his arms around Sam's shoulders. Once securing his arm, Dean bent, fitting his other arm under Sam's bent knees. It almost surprised Dean at how easily he could lift his brother. Almost. He knew Sam was skinny. Skinnier than a boy his age and height should be.

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Reviews are my crack. Support my addiction?


	2. Chapter 2

**Authors Note:** Oh my. I was astonished at the amount of positive feedback this story received. I just have to say thank you so much for all the alerts and of course, the lovely reviews! Heads up, short update (what else is new)! -stabs self- See, I've already taken the liberty of inflicting pain upon myself. No need for anyone else too... right?

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It's a weird feeling when you're in that state right before wakefulness. It's kind of like you're floating... in a sort of loopy, where the hell was I last night kind of way. But, that's not really what's bothering me at the moment. I'm almost always fully aware before my eyes are even open, but for some reason, my mind felt more foggy than anything else at the moment. Even so, I could already make out shapes and colors through my lidded eyes.

Taking a deep breath, I near gasped at the pounding headache making it's presence known. Instead, I shivered, then trembled slightly at the feel of wool brushing against the goose bumps settling along my legs. I could feel the coolness in the air, causing the hairs along my damp arms to stand on end. I was almost certain that the voice whispering loudly in the room outside mine "_probably Dean," _was what woke me up. Either that or this massive headache.

Slowly, I cracked open my eyes. At first I was surprised by the dimly lit room. I turned my head to the side, taking in my surroundings. I did not see Dean which meant my earlier inference was correct. Looking to the nightstand, I noticed a glass of water and a couple of ibuprophen. I smiled slightly at the gesture. Dean always took care of me.

I popped the pills in my mouth and took a sip of water to wash them down but stilled my movements as I heard shuffling outside the door. I knew I wasn't in trouble, but that didn't stop my nerves from racking. I watched as Dean poked his head in through the partially opened door.

"Hey, you're awake." I noted the tentativeness of his voice as I set the glass back on the nightstand, then turned away. I could still feel Dean's eyes on me.

"I called dad."

I stiffened at the thought of Dean calling dad. "Oh, yeah?" I spoke, a hint of apprehension going hopefully unnoticed. "What'd he say?"

"Not much. He said he'll be home in a few days." I nodded to myself, not sure what to say.

"Sam, we're going to have to talk about this eventually."

I turned to look at him this time before whispering a response. "I know." I closed my eyes, willing the tears away. The room was silent for a moment before I felt the bed shift near my knees and a hand gently taking mine.

"What happened?"

I took in a shuddery breath before speaking, "I… It was Matt. I'm not sure why, b-but he hates me. He said something about teaching me a lesson, but… God Dean, I just don't know." I felt pathetic as I let out a whimpering sob.

"It's okay, Sam." I felt Dean scoot up to the head of the mattress. It took me a moment to realise he was wrapping his arms around my waist. I allowed him to prop me up against him, while he leaned against the headboard. I laid my head against his chest_, "like I used to when I was younger," _I thought. I moved my head around searching for the comforting sound of his heart beating. Upon hearing it, I sighed in contentment. It sounded more like a choked gasp.

The room was silent again, except for my occasional gasping sob. Dean was rubbing soothing circles on the small of my back with one hand while the other worked it's way through my too long hair, occasionally brushing my bangs behind my ears. Like before, the silence didn't last long. "…It's not just Matt, is it?" I let out another sob. What was I supposed to say to that?

"I-I don't know." I stuttered.

"Don't know, or don't want to tell?"

I looked up at Dean, tears dripping from my eyes. "I really don't know." I whispered, biting my lip to prevent it from quivering. I felt Dean's grip on my waist tighten, pulling me back down.

I felt ashamed as the sobs became louder. I sounded so desperate.

I felt Dean's hand move back down to the small of my back, mimicking his previous actions. "It's gonna be okay, Sam." Dean's reassurance eased my sobs to quite sniffles. Normally, I would have laughed at Dean's cooing, but at the moment, something about that whole prospect felt... wrong.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean cast a sideways glance at his brother. It was just yesterday that he had his little talk with Sam. It went a lot better than expected, but something was still bothering him. The talk didn't exactly help either of them anyhow because he still didn't know what was going on with Sam. Dean knew he should be more worried about Sam's mental health more than anything else, but he couldn't help to notice the major weight loss he's endured over the past few months.

Dean pursed his lips in thought. His little brother was hurting, that much was apparent, and he needed to do something about it.

Sam let out an aggravated huff "What?" He turned his head away from the television and frowned at Dean. "Why are you staring at me like that? And what's with the face?" Dean jumped slightly, taken aback. Had he been staring?

"Ah. No reason, just… making sure you're alright."

Sam didn't look convinced. "Yeah, I'm fine. Now quite staring." He snapped causing Dean to raise an eyebrow.

"Okay, what up with the snark?"

"Big miscommunication, Dean. That wasn't snark, I was simply stating my aggravation in a blatant manner. But I suppose it would be easy for someone like you to misinterpret that."

Dean gaped. What the hell?

"Oh, sorry Dean. Too many big words? Want I should explain them to you?"

Okay, that was it. "You know what Sam? Fuck you. I've been nothing but nice to you and all you've given me is attitude and sarcasm! The least you could do is treat me with a little respect!" Dean's face was red with anger by now.

Sam looked at Dean for a moment processing what he had said. Quickly realizing his mistake and how utterly venomous his words were, Sam looked down. He knew he was being a jerk and admittedly, he felt bad.

Taking Sam's silence as his answer, Dean got up, making sure to grab his keys and jacket before slamming the door behind him.

Sam glanced longing at the closed door, tempted to follow Dean, but he knew better. Dean needed time to cool off, then he could apologise. Still, "_How could I say that to Dean?" _he thought bitterly. "_All he was trying to do was help… and I drove him away."_ Sam shot up from the sofa and kicked one of the pillows that had fallen to the floor across the room. "_He probably hates me! Hell, I'd hate me! God, I'm such a fucking jerk!"_

"Goddamnit!" Sam cursed out loud, then strode to the bathroom in hopes that a shower might calm him down. He paused once he reached the sink and looked in the mirror. A mixture of light green and grey stood out against his too pale skin. He winced slightly at the color disfiguration. His lip was slightly swollen from the punch it had received the previous day as was his left eye. "_When did Matt hit me in the eye?" _He thought, absently probing at his injuries.

Slowly, he lifted his shirt, getting a good look at his ribs. There was a thick layer of gauze wrapped loosely around his last three ribs coving what looked to be some pretty dark bruising, probably put there to restrict any movement that might irritate or further harm the already damaged ribs. There were a few minor cuts in his midriff area and shallow gash running from his hip bone almost to his bellybutton, covered with a thin strip of gauze and medical tape. "_Don't remember getting that either." _

Sam frowned. He really did get the shit kicked out of him.

Letting out another sigh, Sam stripped from his clothes and turned the knob on the shower. He waited a moment, to let the water warm up before carefully removing the bandages and stepping into the tub.

~o~

Dean sat in the Impala, not sure where to go. He could always go to the bar. Sure, he was underage, but he had a fake ID and he really doubted that anyone would give half a shit. Deciding that he was in need of a drink or two, Dean started the car and peeled out of the parking lot.

"Fucking Sam," Dean mumbled to himself as he drove.

~o~

Sam cursed under his breath. He was so upset he didn't even remember to bring a towel with him! Slipping out into the hall, Sam went over to the lined closet, fumbled with the doorknob a moment and grabbed a plain white towel. Once back in the bathroom, he started to towel off.

The shower helped. He felt much calmer, but the guilt was really starting to set in. Frowning yet again, Sam opened up the medicine cabinet to get some Ibuprophen for his massive headache. The brunette paused mid-reach as he caught sight of his brother's razor.

Forgetting about his headache, Sam picked up the razor.

~o~

Dean slammed on the brakes and yelled out in anger. Of all the things in the world, he forgot his wallet. "God damn it." Dean mumbled under his breath as he made a hasty U-turn. If he's lucky, he could probably avoid Sam altogether.

~o~

Sam spent what felt like hours just staring at the razor in his hand. "_Would it really be that easy?" _He thought to himself. Sam popped a blade out of the disposable razor and held it to his wrist. "Am I really going to do this?" he hesitated.

Taking a deep breath Sam slowly drew the blade down his wrist. He let out a hiss at the burning sensation. It wasn't a deep cut. It was barely even scratch, but boy did it smart!

Taking another breath, Sam repeated his previous actions, only adding more pressure as he slit arm. There was a lot more blood this time around. It almost surprised him. But not quite. "_I can't believe I'm actually doing this."_ Sam let out another gasp as he cut another trail down his arm.

"_Am I seriously going to just let myself bleed out?" _Realization slowly sunk in. If he did this, he'd die… but isn't that what he wanted? He's been such a burden to Dean and his Dad. It'd probably be easier on everyone. "Yes, I am." he whispered.

Coming to a decision, Sam went over to the bathtub, put a stopper in the drain and turned the faucet back on. If he was going to do this, he was going to do it right.

~o~

Dean let out another curse as he made his way from the parking lot to the apartment. The elder Winchester paused a moment before he opened the front door. Something was off.

He held his breath as he took in his surroundings. Nothing seemed out of place. Taking a few steps forward Dean paused again. He could hear the bath running. "_Sam hasn't taken a bath since he was eight." _Curious, the blond walked down the hall to the bathroom and was surprised to find the door not closed and locked but slightly ajar. "Sammy?" he called out before pushing the door open.

Dean let out a gasp at the scene before him.

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Bénis-moi avec une évaluation? S'il vous plaît?


	4. Chapter 4

**Authors Note: **My first update in over a year? Has it really been that long? No excuses other than writers block I suppose. I only hope those interested in this story are willing to put aside the fact that I've neglected this story- along with all the others- for so long. I never want to go through a period like that again. While I could still manage to scribble out short poems, actual stories seemed to evade me left and right. For that I offer my deepest apologies. It's my hope that such a dry spell hasn't let my writing abilities go to shit. Though I can't imagine my punctuation being any worse than before. Ha ha.

Before I continue onto the story I'd like to take a moment to thank everyone that's reviewed this story so far. I just recently went over the reviews and a few actually brought tears to my eyes. I feel like such a sap admitting this, but I feel that you guys should know just how much I appreciate your support. It means the world to me that people are interested in reading my work. Thank you for that. :)

Edit: 5.17.10

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Letting out a shaky sigh, Dean ran his fingers through his hair worriedly as he swept his eyes across the waiting room, taking in all the Doctors bustling about, seldom pausing to pick up charts. Nurses rushed in and out of various operating rooms while distressed family members and friends anxiously awaited news on their loved ones. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, taking in the stale air thick with the scent of antiseptic.

"Dean Tucker?"

The young blonde stumbled his way across the room, nearly barreling over the doctor, cutting him off mid-introduction. "That's me. Is Sammy okay? Can I see him?"

The man-- Dr. Sturges as he'd introduced himself, let out a sigh. "Your brother was in pretty bad condition, Son. We've managed to patch him up, but we nearly lost him-- twice," He paused to give Dean a moment to absorb the information before continuing, "Tell me, has there been any problems at home lately?"

Dean nearly balked at the insinuation. "Excuse me?"

The Doctor nodded his head in understanding. "I'm afraid Samuel had some sever injuries-- especially to his ribs. That alongside his current condition put him in a tough spot. I'm obligated to ask with my patients best interest in mind."

The older Winchester closed his eyes briefly, taking in the physicians words before replying through gritted teeth, "No sir, there hasn't. My fathers out of town on the moment on business. I suppose my brother and I have been arguing more lately, even more so after he got into a fight a few days ago."

Dr. Sturges gave Dean a sympathetic look. "Alright, follow me," with an inclination of his head the older man set of towards the younger Winchesters room, Dean no more than two steps behind him.

~o~

Dean suppressed a gasp at the sight of his baby brother. His heavily bandaged arms barely contrasting against his skin. Next to the bed, a machine beeped rhythmically, monitoring the young teens heartbeat. Two IV stands stood adjacent, one steadily pumping saline solution, the other blood.

"Oh, Sammy." The older Winchester brother trailed off, raking his eyes along Sam's pale body. He looked so small and fragile beneath the thin bed sheet, his shaggy bangs hanging limply against his face, long hair hugging his colorless cheeks. Dean ran a hand down his brothers face, gently tucking loose strands of hair behind his ear.

Guilt once again welled up inside his chest as he grabbed Sam's hand in reassurance "I'm so sorry, baby brother." Dean closed his eyes and allowed a single tear to escape before leaning down to kiss his brother on the forehead, "So, so sorry."

Sams eyes fluttered briefly beneath his eyelids. His hand twitched in Dean's grasp, lacing his fingers tightly between his brothers before before settling back down.

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Yikes! Let hope the next chapter is longer than this. :P


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